


Angela "Bottom" Ziegler

by app_jelly, designateddriver, Dliessmgg



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Humor, bottom-o's, bottoms, cereal humour, tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 15:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/app_jelly/pseuds/app_jelly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/designateddriver/pseuds/designateddriver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dliessmgg/pseuds/Dliessmgg
Summary: Sit down for a tale of love and lust,Never gonna let you downSit down for a tale of bottoms and tops,the world is gonna roll meOr, alternatively:Angela gets jealous of the two cabin Or else we’ll call the cops.Or, alternatively:She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumbBecause we say you must.Never gonna run around and desert youIn the shape of an "L" on her foreheadSOMEBODY once told me building lesbians hanging out together.I ain't the sharpest tool in the shedNever gonna give you up





	Angela "Bottom" Ziegler

**Author's Note:**

> just another day in PRMFU(S)aRaBaAPC :)))))
> 
> the summary says it all sweaties :'''''))))))

_ Sit down for a tale of love and lust, _

_ Because we say you must. _

_ Sit down for a tale of bottoms and tops, _

_ Or else we’ll call the cops. _

 

Fareeha had been building cabins with Brigitte a lot lately. Anglaea supposed building them didn’t require a lot of effort, between the two women. Fareeha had said that Brigitte could trip over a log and build a cabin. 

 

Turns out she was right. Literally. Brigitte tripped over logs and BAM cabins appeared seemingly out of nowhere. ONe second here was nothing, a void of desolation, next thing, A cabin appeared within a forest. Brigitte had to trip first, though. It was required, for some reason. A complimentary lesbian couple would then inhabit the newly built cabin. The worst times was when it would rain logs, and Overwatch had to go on log cabin cleaning missions afterwards. 

 

All this made Fareeha spend hours upon hours into improving her log cabin building skills. She just wasn’t satisfied until she could be at least half as quick as Brigitte. And of course, she wanted to prove that a log cabin didn’t necessarily need a sauna. All of Brigitte’s cabins had saunas in them. And sure, hot sweaty sauna lesbian sex was cool, but not all the time, because the lesbians of the land literally cannot help themselves when a sauna is involved. One could also argue that hot sweaty sauna lesbian sex was never cool, because it was just too hot in there.

 

Of course, Agngella was hella jealous. Her beau, even tho they weren’t dating and hadn’t even said more than pleasantries and pleasant tires to the other, would hang out everyday with the log cabin queen. This made Agnesla very jealous, as Fareeha gave her the wetties. She gave herself the wetties:) every night just thinking about her strictly platonic gal pal. It wasn’t right for the universe to drop this gorgeous cabin building lesbian and pair her with ANOTHER gorgeous cabin building Swedish lesbian. It had to be stopped.

 

So Angella decided to confront Fareeha. She ordered seventy-two logs off of Generic Internet Shopping Platform and arranged them in neat rows in her garden, because every Swiss garden needs neat rows.

 

“So, uh, you really like cabins, eh?” Anglesea said. She had picked up some Canadanadianisms recently. She wasn’t really sure why.

 

Fareeha nodded, suddenly in plaid. “Cabins are lit.” She had a plaid jacket tied around the waist of her plaid jeans and plaid belt. She was shirtless, but her titty cage was plaid as well, since it was made of plaid titties. 

 

WEll, that didn’t reveal much about pharitte at all. Anngeal had to ask deeper questions.

 

“So, uh, Brigitte is pretty good at building them?” Angelalaland asked. It wasn’t a question but she still asked it.

 

“Oh yeah. She’s been teaching me the Swedish method.” Her face became a mix of German expressionism and ancient rock formations. It went against her national pride, against her nature to not do it the Egypto-Canadian way.

 

“What method were you using before?” Anglo asked.

 

“The Egyptian method. We don’t actually build log cabins, but it’s worked well for me so far. I’ve made many lesbian couples a happy home.” Fareeha suddenly turned to the camera. “I’m the host of  _ Lesbian Wood _ , catch me on HGTV at 5:30pm CST on Sundays and Thursdays ;)” she said lesbianly.

 

(Of course, the camera was handled by Ana, who sat on a rooftop somewhere, filming everything her daughter does through her scope. Incidentally, that’s how Fareeha got discovered by the TV producers.)

 

Angel made a mental note to set her dvr to record HGTV at 5:30pm CST on Sundays and Thursdays ;). The wink Fareeha gave made her cream her panties a little. (Actually a lot, but she didn’t want to admit that in front of her crush. That would just be embarrassing, even for her.)

 

“Wow, the both of you are just so great at building log cabins. yOu’d make a great couple,” Angelo said. It was more direct than she wanted to be, but she wasn’t getting much further than creaming her own panties at this point. She needed answers dammit.

 

Fareeah looked at Angagla with a peculiar expression. Her eyebrows were so pushed together that they almost touched into one singular brow (“artsy,” Agala thought). “Anglea, we’re both tops,” Fareeha said. “I could never date Brigitte.”

 

Aangle gasped lesbianly. She was more bottom than the ocean floor, more bottom than rock bottom, more bottom than the innermost elements of the earth’s crust, more bottom than bottom itself. (But not so bottom that it wrapped back around to top. That would just be silly.) Maybe if Fareeha knew, she’d be into ongela’s bottomistic ass.

 

In the dictionary beneath the word “bottom” was a pinup picture of Angeloo holding a sign that said “bottom bitccH”. That was why she didn’t have to join tinder. 

 

(The reason Fareeha didn’t join tinder is that she thought it was a platform about setting log cabins on fire. She didn’t support that politically, morically, categorically, empirically, cereally, theoretically and canadiacally. Fareeha did a quick google search for “adverbs”. She did that with her flight suit that she always wore (metaphorically).)

 

“Hey Fareeha, what kind of metaphors are you into?” EvAngela asked coyly. 

 

Fareeha blinked blankly . “I don’t understand metaphors of any kind. You have to be rather direct to get me to understand the drift.” The only thing Fareeha knew about drifting is how to kit out the car so it becomes easier.   
  
This would be easy. Angelism was the queen of direct. She noticed that there was a fridge in the middle of the room. We just didn’t mention it earlier because we hate fridges (politically).

 

“Fareeha could you help me get this item from the  _ bottom _ of this shelf?”

 

“Agnella, I’m….” Fareeha quickly checked overwatch wiki, “exactly four inches taller than you. Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to ask me to reach for something on a top shelf?”

 

On second thought, not to be confused for thot, this wouldn’t be so easy. Agnola was apparently queen of misdirection and indirectness.

 

“Uh, no Fareeha. It’s important that it’s on the bOTTOM. Very important. It has, oh, mega (omega) importance.”

 

Fareeha easily reached for the item on the bottom of the shelf and handed it to Angola’s grabby hands. It was a box of bottom-o’s. 

 

“I’d offer to share some but, well,” Gangesla looked up at Fareeha with sultry eyes. One of her lids twitched uncontrollably. “I think you’d prefer bottoms of a different sort.” She waggled her eyebrows. They did the macarena. She also waggled her bottom (the butt--not all of her. Even though she was a bottom).

 

(By the way, have you ever looked at a bottom’s bottom? That really warms me at the bottom of my heart.)

 

“Actually, I love bottom-o’s. I like to dunk them in milk and hold them under until they’re soft enough to fall apart in my mouth,” Fareeha said.

 

Aglagl’s jaw fell open. Since fucking when was fucking Fareeha this fucking forward with fucking metaphors, f*cking metaphors about fucking. “I’m, I don’t know what to say.”

 

“YOu don’t have to say anything. It’s your right to not say a damn thing.”

 

An-thirst-ho-la grabbed a handful of bottom-o’s and presented them to Fareeha along with a glass of milk that she pulled out of her lab coat. “Would you show me how you’d eat this handful of bottom-o’s?”

 

“I thot and also thought you knew how to eat cereal, Angel-cakes. You’re supposed to be an adult, you know.”  Fareeha said in her most adult voice. (Which kind of adult, is left as an exercise for the reader.)

 

“I’m a wittle out of pwactice sweaty, could you show me?” Anfurry-la jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. “Pwetty pwease uwu?” She farted a little afterwards but it was silent and definitely not deadly. Also it smelt of cinnamon, vanilla, jasmine, and coffee (bottom blend).

 

FAreeha dutifully grabbed the glass of milk and dunked the offered bottom-o’s into it. She trapped them under the surface of the milk with a spoon, her face contorted in contortation and concentration. She was amping herself up to eat some bottoms. A poot slid past her cheeks, the ones on ye bottome. Luckily, it was silent and only a little deadly. Also it smelt of cardamom, vaseline, jaseline and coughing (bottom blend… top? Blend… A+ would bottom again blend).

 

“Ohmygod that’s so hot,” Anthot-la moaned out loud. Fareeha was pretty sure the cereal was room temperature, at best.

 

Fareeha hadn’t even taken her first bite, but Bottomla (not to be confused with Bottle-a) was ready to squirt out the wetties. “Pwease, Faweeha, show me how you eat it.”

 

Meanwhile, Brigitte was watching TV, confused what they’re doing on there. Was this supposed to be some kind of mating ritual? tH e blond one (who somehow looked familiar, but behaved eerily uncannily different from expected) really had it out for her fellow cabin builder. Definitely a bottom.

 

Fareeha blushed. She didn’t know what for, but Aglets-a was making some rather attractive noises just from her eating cereal. “A-ah, sure lemme just….” She scooped the bottom-o’s into her moist, hot, mout.h, chewing softly at first and then really letting them have it. It almost made her honey-nut-bust-a-nut, but she kept on until the bottom-o’s became the perfect mush to swallow. And swallow she did. She swallowed the fuck out of the very swallowable bottom-o’s until her mouth had none left to swallow. In that moment, Aangela honey nat. The expected result from Fareeha’s nat20.

 

“Is that what you wanted to see?” Fareeha asked, wiping off her lips. 

 

“Oh, yeah, baby. That’s exactly what I wanted to see. You really know what you’re doing with your cereal. You’re the perfect cereal killer.”

 

“Of course. I’m an adult, not a baby. I’ve pretty much mastered chewing, tonguing, and swallowing,” Fareeha said matter-of-factly. 

 

Anjello-a pulled off the pair of panties she had on. They were terribly ruined from all the wetties she had. (Of course, you could also have the perspective that the wetties was what made the panties complete, whole, brought them closer to their true purpose.) “I’m just gonna have to cut to the chase here. I don’t think I can hold out for much longer.”

 

Ambelcha cleared her throat, staring straight, or rather lesbian-gayly, at Fareeha when she said, “Here-by I solemnly speake to thee: asdlklfjsaldfjasklfjasdlkfj alksdfjalskdfj a;sdlkjfalskdfjasdklfjaslkfj.”

 

Fareeha’s eyes shot up in understanding. Only bottoms could vocalize keyboard smashes. All this time Adangle was trying to tell her that she was a bottome and that they should totally fuck and get married. And if she heard correctly, they needed to do all of those things STAT (Suddenly, Totally, Absolutely, Toppingly) and in the most lesbian way possible.    
  


“Angle, you’re a bottom?”

 

Agnela scoffed. “I”m not  _ just _ a bottom. I’m THE bottom bitccH.”

 

Fareeha panties gave against a tidal wave of wetties and wettoppies. She got down on one knee and pulled out a plaid wedding ring. (Btw, she always spelled ‘pulled’ as ‘plaid’.) “AnGELa (Geddit? Gel? Hahaha that’s so funny.), my beautiful botttom bitcch, would you do this top the honor of becoming her bottom wifecch?”   
  
Anglosaxon wiped back tears, and also front tears. This was it. She finally snagged the rugged, cabin building lesbian of her dreams. “Yes, Fareeha! A million times, not to be confused for thymes, YES.” Angel-hair-pasta put on the perfect fitting ring and jumped into Fareeha’s stronk top arms. 

 

They fucked. 

 

Right.

 

Then.

 

And.

 

There.

 

HGTV had to blur out their bodies, but they let tit air with Fareeha and Agnleaf’s consent. All the tops and bottoms in the world rejoiced at their coupling. 

 

Meanwhile, Brigitte sat at home, eating her top-o’s, and promised herself she would find a bottom for herself, and it would be just as beautiful as what she’s just observed on live television with her own two eyes in this real actual world on this proper day that was actually happening.

 

_ ‘Tis was the tale, it’s over now, _

_ They are now wife and Frau. _

_ You can go home and tell your friends _

_ To read this fuckin terrible shit of piece or they will catch our fucking hends. _


End file.
